Archive for June, 2007

Please note: This post is not meant to criticize or offend anyone who has experienced a death of friend of family and has had to make these decisions. It’s only intent is to bring attention to a practice that seems to me to go unquestioned, when there may be other, viable alternatives worthy of consideration.

There is an increasing trend for places to be owned, to be attached to names, to be logo-fied. At the university of Windsor we don’t just have a student centre, we have the “CAW Student Centre”. The buildings include the Toldo Building, The Jackman Centre for Dramatic Arts, Chrysler Tower, Chrysler Halls North & South — these are the names of local funders, who’ve made donations to the university. In the community, parks and greenspaces follow the trend too. People own property and build fences to keep others out. It carries on throughout life, until the ultimate in real estate ownership: a graveyard plot and tombstone, yours forever.

I’ve been telling people around me for years that I want to be cremated when I die and I’ve recently realized I don’t want to be responsible for using up even more land after I die. I don’t want to be tied (figuratively since I’ll be ashes) or have my memory tied to a single geographic location. When I’m done with my body, burn it up so it’s certain I’m dead (irrational fear of premature burial, thank you Edgar Allen Poe) and use me as compost to plant something — or else sprinkle me in a favourite place. I’m planning on living a good many more years so I’m not quite sure where that favourite place is yet.

I definitely know I don’t want any deadland. I feel no draw to the cemeteries where my grandparents are buried. I do feel drawn to the houses where they lived and where I visited them, to the things of theirs that I use in my home or have hanging on my walls or sitting on my shelves — these are the places and things that remind me of them. When I’m telling my children stories about them and their lives we look at these treasures. There is nothing for me at the cemetery.

I do wonder at the amount of money that people spend on tombstones and plots and upkeep (not to mention caskets) and I wonder how it came to be that this is now the standard in our society — that people have accepted this as “what must be done” when someone dies. I wonder what those spaces would look like without the markers — if every marker were instead a tree would we still have air quality problems here? Is it that people fear being forgotten? That without the stone there is nothing to remind the living that they even existed? Or is it the living that want the stone and land? To make the act of remembering a physical exercise (go to the cemetery) instead of an emotional/intellectual one (talk about the dead, think about them, etc)? or is it something I just don’t understand?

I’d rather invest in my family and community now, and leave the space for the living — not because I have a need to be remembered, but because I can’t rationalize consuming resources after I’m dead. I just won’t be needing them.

Today is graduation day. I’ve enlisted the help of friends to help gather my children from the 3 different places from which they will come for the ceremony. One is at a track meet, participating in the last event of the day. My friend will wait for him to run his race and then bring him to the ceremony. If all goes well he’ll make it just in time. I have wonderful friends. Rob will chauffeur the gang to the university so that my parents will not have to walk in the heat. Afterwards we’ll have Chinese takeout, gift of my mother. Sounds like a great day.

I’ve just come from picking up my gown. It’s an awfully awkward concoction and so I looked for some pictures from past graduations to see how it’s supposed to go together. I found this pic and can see that indeed it is an odd design that doesn’t seem to sit right on any of these people, except maybe the man on the left with the yellow tie. I don’t understand why the floppy part (hood?) is falling off everyone and that no one has ever noticed or tried to improve the design. I’m going prepared with a pile of safety pins. For the money and effort I’ve spent on the degree, I expected a little more. Who wants to be all falling out of their clothes?

Reflecting back to other graduation days, I can’t help but think of BtVS: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and her high school graduation at the end of Season 3.

What a mess that turned out to be! Monsters, demons, zombies, and a vicious mayor… and somehow Buffy got the entire class together to fight them all and win. What an awesome gal.

I’ll do my best today to block out the other things on my mind these days: dealing with an ex-husband-lunatic, navigating new relationships with old friends, trying to sort out what I want to do with my life now that this stage is over. Vampire slaying seems so straightforward — all you have to do is do it (oh and survive I guess). I understand the burden, but today I envy the simplicity. I’ve learned so much from Buffy, including how to prepare for graduation: I’ll have a wooden stake hidden in my sleeve and the kids will have a crossbow each, just in case we’re visited by the undead. Bring it on!

I’ve been meaning to go for months but it never worked out until today. This morning I went there for tea with my friend Lisa. I also had a “texture” cookie, all full of raisins, seeds, apple and yummy goodness and the desserts are vegan (even the choco-chip cookies — only place in Windsor with a variety for vegans as far as I know).

The place is really special: you choose your own teacup from a beautiful shelf full of one-of-a-kind cups, the walls are covered with gorgeous cloths and artwork. You choose your tea from a book full of samples where each page has a description and sample of the dry tea ingredients. They are also licensed and serve espresso and sandwiches. The neighbourhood is calm and there’s an outdoor patio area. Tomorrow I want to go back for the live performance by local artist Ron Leary.

I tend to blame myself. Maybe it’s that guilty recovering Catholic conscience. Whenever something bad happens (not far away, just close to me) I find myself scrutinizing my actions and role in the event and wondering where I made a mistake and what I should have done differently. Note — not wondering *if* I made a mistake, but *when* I did.

I’m about to graduate. Convocation will be a celebration of sorts (hence the fête). I barely remember my high school graduation which I had not intended to attend.
At the last minute I was asked to do one of the opening addresses so I ended up going. I delivered a speech in French about cows or something ridiculous and I wore my low-top sneakers with candy cane socks. For various reasons my family did not attend but they are planning to come to this. I haven’t completely figured out how to assemble my children from 2 different schools at different ends of the cities in the middle of the afternoon. I have just over a week still to sort that out. I anticipate the entire experience will be anticlimactic. The speeches will probably be long and will not relate to my life. The kids will likely get bored. I don’t particularly feel connected to the university since classes ended. I’ve been back a few times for conferences but it feels different somehow. I debate not going because it all seems too complicated today. The work is done, the grades earned… is the ceremony really important? Why did I want to go back in March when I applied to graduate?

Part of me feels like I didn’t do all the things I should have. I know I worked hard, but maybe it wasn’t hard enough. This last year I did take it a little bit easy compared to first year. I didn’t accomplish as much as I did in the beginning. I wonder what I could have done differently and if it would have made a difference. I worry about next year and what comes after that.

Since finishing classes a few weeks ago I’ve been trying to reconnect with the friends I had before I went back to school. I did my best to keep these relationships alive while life was crazy but we’ve all been through a lot in four years and you can’t just resume. We’re not the same people. It takes time to build intimacy and connection.

Even at school I felt disconnected: I hardly saw the people from my program during this last semester. I didn’t have any women’s studies classes at all and as much as I loved my programming class I didn’t make any friends there. I miss bumping into my colleagues from school around campus. Even going back there like I have for a few conferences and events since classes ended it seems changed. I know it isn’t the campus though, it’s me. Like I know my undergrad is over and I’m in a different role there now. My identity is in limbo. I’m not an undergrad but I don’t yet feel like a grad student.

Working at home is wonderful but isolating. I don’t miss the assignments and the deadlines. But I miss the contact with grownups. Poor Rob has felt the brunt of this more than once when I’ve spent the day by myself. I’m trying to get out each day just so that I talk to a grown up — it reminds me of my days with little babies except this time I see it happening and am better resourced to stop it from becoming a problem.

I wonder if other people are celebrating or if they are worrying like I am. I think my readiness to celebrate came and went when I handed in my last exam (and I did have a fabulous dinner with really good *Ontario* wine). Maybe I should allow this to pass quietly while I get on to the next thing.

Rob and I have been working on the house. When we’re finished what we have planned I’ll be loading up, distributing the duplicate stuff, and relocating 10 minutes up the street. A blended family! I’m pretty excited. It’s a lot of work but it’s all fun.

Today when I went to a friend’s house to reformat her old computer she offered me/us a tree: it’s a Kentucky Coffeetree. Windsor-Essex County is the northernmost limit of its range. It’s a native species but they are rare. There’s a male and female of the species and if they aren’t planted close enough together they don’t make any babies.

My friend knew we’d been talking about trees (what kind we like, where to put it, when to do it). I am especially eager for some shade so that the kids can get outside this summer. It’s a newish neighbourhood and although the city has been around planting a young tree on each lot there’s a need for many, many more trees in that part of the city. I grew up in the country surrounded by trees. My parents planted more trees every year and they have hundreds on the one acre property they own. I know that it takes time for a tree to establish itself and get some shade going so choosing to plant sooner rather than later is not trivial. But still, it’s Rob’s place and even if I feel okay planting some flowers or doing something small it’s a very big deal all this navigating sharing space. Digging a hole and sticking a tree in it should be a joint adventure. The gift of this tree just speeds us up on the inevitable.

The special thing about this tree is that it was a seedling that my friend and her partner gave out at their wedding ten years ago. It’s moved several times and was about to be cut down. The person who’d received it at the wedding has moved out of province and the new people don’t like trees. At my place I already have a Hackberry tree rescued from the same plight, also from the same wedding and it is beautiful. It’s been here for 6 years now and it’s tall and healthy and gives lots of shade. I hope the Kentucky Coffeetree will be as happy at Rob’s place as the Hackberry is here.

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Femilicious is written by a feminist-activist-artist-geek-parent-student.